


you’ll get by with your wicked little smile

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:36:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s hardly my fault if people can’t keep their eyes off of you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you’ll get by with your wicked little smile

**Author's Note:**

> you can blame this on me and Rachel laughing about Jason being a good wifey and on Bruce and Jay for disallowing me to write the crack that this should have been. *takes a bow*

“I know I’m pretty,” Jason teases as Bruce stands between his legs and lets Jason undo the mess he made with his tie, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he fixes it for him. “But I don’t think I can pull off trophy wife.”

Bruce snorts, bats Jason’s hands out of the way and finishes tying the tie himself. “We’re going to a charity dinner,” Bruce says. “I want you to keep an eye on who the mayor speaks with while we’re there.”

“Sure,” Jason says, winking as he pops his gum. “And you want to show me off to all your friends.” 

“I do nothing of the sort,” Bruce says, snaking his arm around Jason’s waist and sitting him up on the counter, sucking kisses onto Jason’s neck until he squirms and Bruce pulls away to survey the bruises on Jason’s neck that his collar won’t quite reach. “It’s hardly my fault if people can’t keep their eyes off of you.”

 

: : :

 

Jason’s flawless at dinner, quiet and charming and so goddamn beautiful Bruce can hardly keep his hands to himself. He watches the whole room be charmed by Jason’s good looks and perfect smile, the way he makes them laugh, and Bruce has to tamper down his rage every time some _stockbroker_ puts his hands on him, every time some cougar in a Valentino dress leans in and presses her painted lips over the bruises Bruce left on him earlier. 

On the ride home Bruce tells him how good he was, licks the taste of champagne out of his mouth and kisses him breathless, takes Jason upstairs once they get home and runs a bath, fills it with bubbles and lavender oil and strips Jason down, gets in the tub behind him and washes away the smell of perfume and greed until he smells like Jason again, like _his._

 

: : :

 

The day after Jason foils one of the Riddler’s schemes all on his own Bruce takes him shopping, lets Jason drag him around from store to store, swipes his Amex card so many times he thinks he gets carpal tunnel and before they go home they walk through the promenade together, Jason licking at an ice cream cone while he talks about the latest book he and Alfred bought 

People stare -- he’s Bruce Wayne, they usually do -- but mostly they’re staring at Jason, Bruce thinks, the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he loves, the obscene way he follows the dripping ice cream down his forearm with his tongue, knowing exactly what he looks like. 

Bruce just meets their judgemental gazes with a defiant stare, pulls Jason closer to him and asks him to tell him more, but he does wait until they get back in the car to pull him in his lap and lick the stickiness off his mouth, grab Jason’s hand and suck on every finger until Jason whines and grinds against him until he comes.

 

: : :

 

On his birthday Bruce walks in from being in the office all day to find Jason in the kitchen, flour whitening the tips of his hair and the whole house smelling _amazing_.

Bruce just chuckles, moves behind Jason as he stirs something on the stove and tugs at the apron strings in the middle of his back, kisses his neck. “What’s that you were saying about being a trophy wife?”

He gets a good kick in the shin for that and Jason shooing him out of the kitchen until it’s done.

When Jason comes to get him later Bruce is passed out in one of the armchairs, wakes up to Jason slipping his loafers off, kneeling between his legs. 

“Sorry,” Jason says. “I didn’t mean to --”

Bruce hauls Jason up by his arms and into his lap, runs his fingers through his hair and kisses him. And _kisses_ him until Jason puts his hand on Bruce’s chest, breathes against his mouth.

“I made you dinner.”

“Yes,” Bruce says. “But I want you.”

“I made you _dinner_ ,” Jason says, his eyebrows pulled taut and Bruce laughs, stands up with Jason still wrapped around him. 

“Alright then,” he says. “Let’s have dinner.”

 

: : :

 

“I’m not a trophy wife,” Jason says as he sits on Bruce’s knee, spears a piece of filet mignon and feeds it to him and Bruce gives him a wry little smile as he chews, lifts one eyebrow. “I’m _not._ I just, you know. It’s my job to take care of you.”

Bruce doesn’t tell him no, it isn’t. He doesn’t tell him that the Batman doesn’t need someone to tie his tie for him, to take his shoes off for him or yell at him when he isn’t getting enough sleep, that he doesn’t _need_ to be able to hear Jason breathing next to him in the middle of the night, to wake up in the morning with a warm body pressed up against his. 

He’d like to be able to tell him all these things, but he and Jason have never lied to each other. He’s not about to start now.


End file.
